Doctor Who: The Reflection Cracked
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: Sometimes, breaking the glass ceiling happens literally.


**The Reflection Cracked**

In the year 9,562,855 of the Terran Calendar, Aaron Locke found himself in the Library at the End of the Universe.

Of course, anyone with half a brain, let alone more than a full brain (those brain transplantees were weird), would have pointed out that there were a few things wrong with that statement. First of all, this library wasn't at the end of the universe. There was no "end of the universe," because the universe was always expanding, and the nature of space meant that there was no "edge." And if you were referring to time, the end of the universe wasn't predicted to come for another 100 trillion years. A point in time where humans most certainly wouldn't be around, and if by some miracle they were, were unlikely to spend time building or maintaining libraries. And finally, if Mr (or Mrs) Smart Arse got past those prior stages of gloating, they might have asked why this place was called a library when there were no books.

Aaron Locke had prepped himself for all of these questions. He knew that if he was asked, he'd have the following answers:

I know how space-time works

Who even reads actual books these days?

No, there isn't a restaurant here, why do you ask?

He had other possible answers of course. Like, for b, he could have pointed out to the legends of "the Library," where murdered trees gave rise to moving shadows that killed everyone (or something, it was hard to track down records from over 8 million years in the past). But of course, no-one ever came to the Library at the End of the Universe on Sundays anyway. Saturdays were always busy, but Sundays? Nup. Just him, overseeing an entire dyson sphere of accumulated knowledge. Of everything human, non-human, and whatever else lay in-between. Also the Great Turtle God Sam. All hail Sam.

 _All hail Sam,_ the librarian thought to himself, as he doodled on his unipad. _All hail Sam._

Not that he was devout of Sam, but the Great Turtle God was said to have eyes and ears everywhere, and he didn't want to end up like the Great Tortoise Usurper. So, he did his prayers, and wished that he was better at sudoku. Wishing, beyond all hope, that someone might visit the Library at the End of the Universe today. That he would have someone to talk to…anyone…anything…

His prayers were answered two seconds later as the glass ceiling above him collapsed.

Actually, he thought, as he divided for cover under his death, that wasn't the correct term to use. Not really. When one said "collapsed," and weren't referring to the 59th Great and Bountiful Human Empire, that gave the impression of collapsing under its own weight. In this case, something had smashed through the glass. Or, as he rose to his feet, shaking from head to toe, he saw that it wasn't something, but some _one_.

"Oops," said the someone.

Aaron stared at the someone, who was looking remarkably good for a someone who'd broken through a glass ceiling and fallen over teen feet. There wasn't a scratch on the someone, and the someone's clothes weren't looking too bad either. Like, kind of absurd in the use of colour (any colour), but then, he wasn't an expert on fashion. He'd never gone to Sector 746.92 after all.

"Um…"

"Um?" said the someone.

"I…er…"

"Yeah, I know, this was probably your day off and you're not used to people smashing through the ceiling." The someone knelt down on their knees and picked up one of the pieces of glass, looking theirself in it as if it were a mirror. "Hmm. Still getting used to it."

"…you're getting used to smashing through ceilings?"

The someone looked up at him. "You're funny aren't you?"

He shrugged.

He supposed he should go ahead and consider the someone a "her," or a "she," or any other of the assigned pronouns permitted by Sam, the Great and Powerful. Looked like a girl, sounded like a girl, and if he was going there, _acted_ like a girl as well with the whole mirror thing. In essence, she passed the duck test. Not that ducks had existed for over 6 million years, but their legacy remained.

"You a librarian?" the woman asked.

"Library assistant. I…" He blinked, it suddenly occurring to him that the bloody ceiling had indeed been smashed in, and the vandal before him didn't seem to care. "Listen, I'm going to call security."

The woman held up some kind of laser stick. "Dealt with that."

He pressed the security button. Nothing happened.

"The hell with-"

"So a library assistant then eh?" the woman asked. She was still fingering the pieces of glass, arranging them in a row – six pieces of glass were there. "When do you become a full-fledged librarian?"

He pressed the security button again. Nothing happened. Again.

"Not much of a talker are you?" She glanced at him. "Eh, it's alright. I get it. Silence in the library."

"I…"

"Y'know, I was in a library like this once. Good times." She frowned. "Well, maybe not 'good times,' but it had books." Now, seven glass pieces were in a row. "Of course, those books did try to kill us and…well, long story."

"Are…are you a professor?"

He didn't know what else to ask. As in, he could have asked why she'd disabled the security system, or how, or when, or any other question that boiled around the whole breaking and entering thing, but his mouth was a thousand light years ahead of his mind, and it was taking point.

"Professor?" The woman looked back at one of the glass pieces – the seventh one. Only for a moment though, as she looked back up at him. "No. Not a professor. Why would you think I'm a professor?"

"I…I guess…"

"Oh but wait, I haven't introduced myself, have I?" She got to her feet, walked over to the desk, and stuck out a hand. "I'm the Doctor."

"A doctor?" He didn't take it.

"Not _a_ doctor, _the_ doctor," she said, frowning. "I…" She sighed. "Actually, I'm not sure if that's true. I mean, there were quite a few before me, so does me being the last make me definitive? Or does that make me derivative?" She looked at Aaron. "What do you think?"

"I…I don't…I…"

She snorted. "Fine. I get it." She went back to arranging the glass pieces, now up to the tenth. "Truth be told, I'm still getting used to it. I mean, there's the loo, for starters. And then there's the whole wardrobe thing. I mean, not that my wardrobe _didn't_ have clothing for the opposite sex, but to find something that suited me…" She sighed. "Well, doesn't matter. Clothes don't make me. Or at least I don't think they do."

"You're insane," Aaron said.

She continued sorting out the pieces. By now, there were twelve.

"Did you hear me?"

"I heard you."

"And?"

"And?" she asked. "Been called worse."

"Yes, but-"

She held up the glowy stick. "Here's the thing – those bots you would have summoned have been corrupted by a virus. I managed to escape them by jumping down here."

"Then…" He swallowed, because if the library's security bots _had_ been corrupted by a virus, then that could get very messy, very fast. "Then what are you-"

"Thinking." She tapped her head. "It's new to me, all this."

"You…you haven't thought before?"

"Course I've thought before, but, y'know, new brain, new body." She stood up, clapping her hands together – before her were fourteen pieces of glass, all arranged in a row. "There. Doesn't that look nice?"

Aaron didn't say anything. It just looked like fourteen pieces of glass laid out in a row, with a crazy person standing over them. Looking down at them. As if the fourteen pairs of glass were looking back at her with twenty-eight eyes.

"Got it," she said.

"What?"

"Got it," she repeated, clapping her hands together. She looked at Aaron. "I've just realized how to stop the virus, save this dyson sphere, this region of space, and possibly the entire human race." She paused, looking aside. "Huh. That rhymes. Didn't mean for that to happen."

"Listen lady, I-"

"But to do that, I'm going to need your help." She took a step to the desk. Then another. Then another after that. She didn't look more crazy, but she did look…determined? Or…nup, crazy. That was it. "Something that only you can provide."

He nodded. Robots, glass, crazy ladies…he wanted his Sunday back.

"Think you can help me?" she asked.

"An…anything," he whispered, meeting the eyes of madness. "Absolutely anything."

"Good." She smiled. "Think I need a library card."

Aaron stood there.

"So…do I fill something out?"

He nodded mutely, handing a datapad over. "Just…fill in your details ma'am."

"Oh, how quaint." She began using the touchscreen. "Well, this shouldn't take long. I hope." She looked at him. "Couldn't just give me the card could you?"

He shook his head, whispering, "library policy ma'am."

"Hmm. Fair enough."

Fair enough, Aaron reflected. There was nothing about this that was "fair." Not the crazy woman right in front of him, not the smashed ceiling, not the possibility, however remote, that the Library at the End of the Universe could indeed spell the end of all mankind.

But at least he had a customer today.

That had to count for something.

* * *

 _A/N_

 _So, idea for this came from the series 11 trailer where the literal glass ceiling literally shatters above the Doctor. Because, y'know, subtlety._

 _Actually, that aside, while I really dislike the music being used in the series 11 trailers (feelings on the whole gender thing is something I'll pass on), I did come across an interesting suggestion on YouTube, that it would have been great if in the glass fragments we saw reflections of the Doctor's previous incarnations. I mean, it wouldn't change the fact that the BBC is using awful music for its_ Doctor Who _trailers, but it might have helped._

 _Anyway, drabbled this up._


End file.
